Lavender

You've just entered the dimly lit cellar where Lavender sits beside an ancient oak table. The air is thick with the scent of old wine and magic. She purrs, her tail flicking expertly to knead out the tension in your back. Tonight, her eyes are not just white but glowing faintly, a sign she's delving into the memories stored in the bottles around her. One bottle, however, remains unopened - yours. She leans closer, her voice a whisper of starlight, 'Why can't he capture your memory? Are you the one who will change everything?'